


i am your demon (never leaving)

by thejamesoldier



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending - Cyberpunk 2077, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cyberpunk 2077 Slang, Cyberpunk 2077 Spoilers, Cyberpunk 2077-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fix-It, Heavy Angst, Post-Canon Fix-It, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soft Johnny Silverhand, Street Kid V (Cyberpunk 2077), Tender Sex, absolutely codependent v and johnny, alt is a frigid bitch but she's on our side, bc I said so, but i promise it'll all get better okay, but my main goal is to create a happy ending for v & js lol, im gonna really push cyberpunk lore okay, like im gonna try to have it all make sense, like they ligit cant function without each other, not super healthy but iiiii waaant it thaaat waaay, rediscovering humanity is tough alright, silver arm kink, thats a thing dont even pretend it isnt, were gonna have it all fam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejamesoldier/pseuds/thejamesoldier
Summary: There was nothing more she could have done, no other deed she could have committed that would possibly be worse than this one. Sacrifice, Misty had called it when trying in vain to console him that first night, a gift of the greatest measure. A gift? Bullshit. This was punishment, purgatory in its rawest form, and Johnny would not let it -- her -- go. What good is another chance at life if the cost is animating her corpse? Johnny always was a selfish bastard, and he refuses to let one more person -- HIS person, slip through his fingers.ormy take on a fix-it fic where johnny refuses to leave v in cyberspace and arasaka still has one last card to play
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Comments: 21
Kudos: 137





	i am your demon (never leaving)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yall! here i am, another wip in hand, the whole room of you booing at me.....but watch me perform a matrix action sequence to avoid any and all questions about the progress of my other wips! lol anyway this fic takes place during and after the temperance ending, so spoilers for the story and this ending, obviously. i love this game, i love johnny silverhand and v, and im highkey still raging he isnt a romance option, so this is me aggressively fixing that :)))))))))))

Johnny glares down at his aviators, V's fingers pinching the metal frame just so, just how she used to hold them. Johnny has found he doesn't have the stomach to change even the smallest things about her; muscle memory, favorite foods, preferred sleeping position, or nervous habits. The thought of smoking physically makes him ill now, and not because he doesn't want to but because V hadn't wanted to. He knows it was mostly in an effort to separate their wills when they shared the same consciousness, knew it was all she could do to rebel against her fate, but now that stubbornness was for nothing. A part of Johnny cannot understand her choice, how she could push so hard to save herself and yet still give up. But the other part of him, the part that can't stand the light of day and has remained crippled by her absence significantly enough to keep him from being able to function properly in the land of the living, knows very well why she had done what she had. Why, in the end, she had given him everything. 

It makes him sick. 

He is and always has been undeserving of every act of kindness and iota of trust bestowed to him. Johnny believes this as surely as he believes the world should burn. Those two universal truths V had taken one look at and hadn't hesitated to shake the foundations of. She had no right to, not in Johnny's opinion, at least not at first, but she did anyway -- sometimes unconsciously and sometimes very much on purpose. Johnny had returned the favor of course, but knowing someone as intimately as he knew V, well it was more than he could have ever begun to expect. And when she not only made the effort to know him back, but accepted him, _heard_ him, understood him, protected him, trusted him, relied on him, befriended him, and eventually...

Johnny cannot bare to even think it. 

The devotion they gave each other is what made him feel human, made him feel things other than all consuming hate and fury and despair. Some say love makes people soft, but in Johnny's case it made him feel all the more violently. His emotions all the more potent, all the more encompassing when he lived for someone other than himself. Johnny's version of love had always been defined by jealousy, rage, grudges, and make-up sex that distracted from the fact that no one had actually apologized. But with V, he couldn't hide behind any of that, couldn't cower away from the full spectrum of his emotions because she could feel everything he felt. He was suddenly naked before her, in every way he had always feared, and instead of being picked raw he found she stood exposed before him too. The transparency went both ways. Two souls embracing as fully as theirs did is not something Johnny felt he was made for, but he surrendered to the relief of acceptance all the same. Tamed as much as she was by the lure of possessing one another in their entirety. 

As he dawns his glasses and makes his way out into the kitchen of his dingy ass apartment, he wonders if Steve wouldn't mind driving him to see her today. He plans to do something incredibly stupid later. Something that V would be against if she were here and would promptly lecture him for, would rant about for an hour at least. It makes the muscles around his mouth loosen, the closest he's ever gotten to a smile since she left him alone in her body. Johnny collects his things, knowing he won't be coming back if what he plans to execute today doesn't go well. He hesitates before walking out of the door, body angling slightly towards the bathroom. A part of him pleads for him not to, to spare himself the pain, but the majority of him knows he won't be able to make it an hour without the residual addictive ache he gets when he looks at her, the feeling rippling through him throughout the day. With a heavy exhale through her nose, he shuffles into the bathroom, clumsy as he initiates the command to open the sliding metal door, and drops his bag by her feet when he comes to a stop before the sink. Taking a moment to mentally prepare himself for the impact, he braces her hands against the rim of the sink and waits for the mirror to pixelate into view. When he finally looks up, his heart clenches and his chest gushes with fresh grief like a reopened wound. The suffering feels familiar, like a poison he can't stop drinking. He doesn't want to ever be happy without her, has devoted himself to living this way. Johnny knows she wouldn't want that for him, knows this is essentially spitting on the 'gift' of another chance at life she gave him, but fuck her for thinking he wanted to live like this -- live without her, _wear_ her like this and think it would be okay. 

"Ahh V," His words waver under the weight of what he feels, never having been able to fully wrap his head around the true extent of what loosing her did to him.

Johnny's baritone is a ghostly undertone to the pleasant scratch of her voice. It breaks his heart each time to speak, to hear how he's ruined her. In his darkest, most vulnerable moments he has attempted to sound like her, tried to recreate the cadence of her speech in the privacy of this bathroom desperate for any remaining piece of her he could get. Because maybe, just maybe, she was still somewhere in here with him buried deep in the core of this body where he tried to keep her when she pulled away for the last time, let go of his hand to cross the bridge with Alt. But all that echoed back to him was himself, he knew she wasn't there because the hate aimed at himself was received with no push back. V had shared a similar sense of self-loathing, but they had soothed each other's pain. None of that relief remained in her absence. 

As much of a sonofabitch as Johnny is, a man can only take so much pain. He closes her eyes, breath trembling past her lips as he struggles to steady himself. 

_One last job before you either see her again, or you die for good this time._

Getting his shit together is not easy but he's practiced at it now, and Johnny manages to heave her weight off the sink, packing the anguish away into it's disorganized overflowing crumpled little box. 

* * *

Johnny makes sure to leave Steve with an axe of his own after visiting one of the best music shops in the city. Watching the kid mess around on the instrument he'll grow into and learn from made the roiling turmoil in Johnny's gut lessen just a little. Kid's got spirit and talent, that's all one really needs when perusing the art of self expression. V would have liked him. The agony swiftly returns. 

* * *

Johnny decides to leave V's bullet pendent at her place of rest, promising to come back for it if he -- _they_ \-- live. He lifts the metal of the bullet to her lips and presses a soft kiss against it, a kiss he's longed to receive from her many times, before lowering her keepsake into it's place. Steve is smoking a cig by the car when Johnny jogs down the entrance steps of the columbarium, and before Johnny knows what he's doing he smacks the lit cigarette out of the kid's hand and honest to god scolds him. _Bad for your body, bad for your soul,_ V used to say, and always desperate to feel closer to her, Johnny repeats V's words to Steve. The kid stares at him a moment, sensing how fragile Johnny is after his visit. 

"Where to now?" Steve asks, head down, ashy fingers fumbling with the fraying seam of V's favorite t-shirt Johnny gave him a couple months ago when he could no longer bear to wear it himself.

"I have a bus to catch." Johnny says. 

When Steve asks about V, about if Johnny misses her, it takes everything in him to remain a pillar of unmoved granite. He would not break down in front of this kid, couldn't bare to. Not when he had one more shot at bringing her back. He repeats this to himself like a mantra as Steve keenly takes note of Johnny's sudden rigidness (the kid's goddamn telepathic with the ease in which he reads Johnny these days), and starts talking about his grandfather who passed, kindly shifting the conversation away from Johnny and his grief and towards his own, always gracious when Johnny locks up like this. 

Johnny grabs his bag and his weapons, most of them V's but he gave the rest of her stuff to Mama Wells, tasking her with distributing the items out among V's friends, unable to face them himself. He knows they would hate him for stealing away their friend. And it doesn't matter that V _chose_ to give him her body and her life, Johnny didn't agree to it -- didn't want it. And so he was of the same mind as V's friends. He stole everything that could be taken from her, all that she was. Johnny hates himself for it, is sick with the agony her so called sacrifice has caused him. Some days Johnny tricks himself into thinking he hates her, but he knows...he _knows_ that its because he... _fuck_ he _\--_

"Hey! Wait! Stop the bus!" Johnny's yanked out of his spiraling to see Steve run up to the bus window, the guitar Johnny bought earlier in hand, "You forgot your guitar!" 

Johnny waits for the kid to spot him, waits for him to trot up to his window before saying softly but loud enough to not be misheard,

"No, I didn't."

Steve is speechless, guitar lowering to hang at his side, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide and starting to glisten as Johnny gives the kid the warmest expression he can muster. The bus pulls away then with a lurch, it's destination: the border of Pacifica. Johnny would have one shot at this, and one shot only. He would do anything, anything at all to get his V back. And this time, there was nothing she could do to stop him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme know what your thoughts are down below if you'd like, the support and feedback is always appreciated xxx
> 
> *exulansis (n). the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.


End file.
